


sunshine on my mind

by raspberryoats



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Bottom Louis Tomlinson, Cock Warming, Felching, M/M, Morning Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Top Harry Styles, i'm so sorry asdlfkjsd;flj
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:55:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29884890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raspberryoats/pseuds/raspberryoats
Summary: Seeing Harry as an actual professor will never get old to Louis as his eyes soak him in. The casual attire of a student-teacher is gone and now Harry’s got on a button up under a sweater vest that both have stripes on it because someone with a face like Harry’s can actually pull that off. His beige trousers ride up high on his waist, loose and wide around the legs like he’s been preferring lately. By the time Louis’ done taking all of him in, he’s got a smile stretched wide across his face, cheekbones feeling like they’re about to burst just from happiness alone.“Hello Professor Styles."or, the one where louis visits harry in portland
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 18
Kudos: 212





	sunshine on my mind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thepolourryexpress](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepolourryexpress/gifts).



> happy birthday, ni ! ♡
> 
> i think anything i say will pale in comparison to how much i actually do love and appreciate you kdndkd thank you for always being there for me and supporting me throughout whatever it is, from my fics to my own personal stuff and everything else in between ! you’ve stuck by me even when you didn’t need to & i can’t even begin to tell you how much that means to me :’( you’ve been like my rock that i can always count on and run to whenever i have something to say. you’re one of the sweetest, smartest, kindest souls i’ve ever met and i honestly don’t know what i’d do without you. i won’t get too sappy here but :’) this little fic is just a small token of how much i love and appreciate you, although nothing will ever ever ever be able to express it ! thank you for everything you do, thank you for being on this train with me, thank you for always being there ! love u so much soulmate :’) please enjoy ! this is for you ♡
> 
> special shout out and huge thank you to danielle ! i would've been a complete wreck without you (although i still was al;sdfjk) thank you for supporting me, listening to me cry and whine about this fic, and faking a tea breakdown to smuggle some information for me ! not to sound repetitive, but i love and appreciate you so so much :’) <3
> 
> this is a short snapshot/ follow up to my previous fic the devil’s in the details ! i don’t thinkkk you have to read it to understand this one, but you can read it [ here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26894428) if you want :D
> 
> ps: apologies in advance to anyone living in portland/ oregon for any geographical inaccuracies i did my best at googling & researching heh :’D

So maybe Louis was wrong about hating Portland.

The admission is a thought he keeps to himself because Zayn would only be the annoying shit he always is and Harry would mercilessly tease him about it. He’s too proud to admit when he’s been wrong, would rather be stubborn about it until his last breath, but he can wave the white flag to himself in the depths of his mind.

He was wrong.

There’s roughly about 800 miles separating them now—a number he can’t get out of his head because apparently he can’t Google something without Zayn making fun of him every two seconds—but they’ve been closer than ever. Louis never realized the weight of happiness a simple phone call to his boyfriend in the grocery store could make him. There was a party one time during spring break in which Louis announced he couldn’t make it because he was having a movie night with his _boyfriend_ and—well, Louis felt like he was on top of the fucking world. 

It’s funny how life seems to work out, making him happier with his relationship than he’s ever been, and Louis laughs to himself when he looks back on it. 

A muddle of thoughts swim in his head, all of them revolving around Portland and Harry, as he trudges up the stairs in his apartment complex that he now shares with Zayn. His chest heaves heavily as his arms threaten to give out, sending his bags of groceries tumbling to the floor. If Harry were here, he would be the one carrying all the groceries while Louis poked his ribs or nibbled at his ear lobe.

 _Soon_ , Louis thinks as he pulls his key out of his pocket and jams it into the keyhole, pushing the door open. 

There’s a mountain of notes and study guides that Louis should be mulling over, but it’s almost two pm on a Tuesday, which means he should be expecting a call from Harry soon. He was never one for strict routines, preferring to tackle whatever he wanted _when_ he wanted, but Portland changed him into that kind of person. Or, Louis’ just willing to flip his life upside down for someone as long as that someone is Harry Styles. 

His life runs like a routine now, one that he doesn’t find himself regretting. It’s been five months of Facetiming, Zoom calls, and texting—it cycles back to their first summer together except this time it’s stretched out even longer. There’s a different ring to everything now, something like a promise that waits for him in Portland that helps Louis survive the next long year.

The sudden vibration of his phone sets off just as he toes off his shoes. Louis doesn’t bother to look at the name and just accepts the call, feeling his bones relax already.

“Hey,” Louis exhales, the corners of his lips curling into a smile and he hasn’t even heard Harry’s voice yet.

“Hey, baby,” Harry replies. “Christ, I was almost late to calling you because that one student, the one with the glasses I told you about, was keeping me back.”

Flopping down on the couch with a huff, Louis laughs. “And did you help them like a good professor would for their students during finals?”

“Of course not,” Harry says, a teasing lilt to his tone. Louis can imagine a smug grin on his pink lips, the dimple carving into his cheek. “Told them I had my boyfriend to go have phone sex with and they understood. My students and I have a pretty good relationship, babe.”

“Define _good_ ,” Louis mutters, arching an eyebrow to himself. “Should I be worried?”

“Lou, I think about you every second,” Harry replies quickly, voice going soft and sweet. He never turns down the opportunity to remind Louis how much he misses him and he knows it’s because Harry feels guilty. “I can’t even go to a coffee shop without wishing you were there or thinking about your commentary on the decor. Last one I went to rivals your shitty coffee, though.”

A laugh bursts out of Louis. “You miss that too, don’t lie,” He pants, still trying to regulate his breathing after all the steps.

“Why are you so out of breath?” Harry asks and then offensively gasps. “Did you just get off and didn’t send me pictures or videos?”

“You wish,” Louis scoffs. “No, the elevator’s broken so I had to take the stairs up to our apartment while holding bags of groceries.”

Harry laughs into the phone, close and familiar. If Louis thinks about it enough, then it’ll feel like he’s right there in his apartment, hot breath fanning in his ear, instead of hundreds of miles away. He finds himself doing this a lot, looking for Harry in the smallest details, as a means to survive the long distance. As a natural optimist, it’s not hard for Louis to look at how good they have it—on the same coast, same time zone, and close enough where the plane tickets don’t burn a hole in his wallet.

It’s just like times like this, where Harry feels close he’s almost tangible, is when hundreds of miles suddenly seem like millions.

“Hey,” Harry murmurs. “You okay?”

His voice is so sweet and gentle as if he knows exactly what Louis’ thinking that Louis gnaws on his bottom lip to stop him from bursting the secret out loud.

“Yeah,” Louis replies, careful not to sound too bright or forced. “I’m just so tired from lugging the groceries up three flights of stairs that I almost burned my dinner.”

“Right, because _that’s_ the reason,” Harry quips teasingly with a low chuckle.

“Maybe I'll just get Zayn to cook me a nice home meal,” Louis muses. The remark is a low blow, one that Louis rarely ever pulls out, especially now that Harry isn’t actually here. He can practically hear Harry growling lowly on the other end because despite Harry knowing that there’s nothing going on, they also can’t change the fact that Zayn's the one living with Louis and not his actual boyfriend.

He hates knowingly pulling these reactions out of Harry and plaguing him with jealous thoughts, but it does the job in distracting him.

“And no, he’s not in love with me,” Louis adds in quickly.

Harry grumbles something unintelligible under his breath. “Pretty wild coincidence that you guys moved into an apartment together when I’m out in Portland,” He mutters.

He’s got a point there and he never passes the opportunity to bring it up. Spending even just another semester in a dorm is enough for Louis to bang his head against a wall. So while it _is_ a coincidence, moving into an apartment with Zayn was really just a way to save his sanity and that’s exactly what Louis repeatedly tells Harry, as much as he refuses to believe it.

“To be completely honest Haz, if we didn’t move then I’d be surviving off of chips and cups of noodles,” Louis says. “Zayn keeps me alive, like it or not.”

“Next time you come I’ll cook you everything,” Harry grits roughly, not even trying to hide his jealousy. “Even your angel hair pasta.”

“Okay,” Louis smiles widely, cheekbones aching with it. He glances at the flight confirmation email print out sitting on the counter. “Yeah, next time.”

The phone call doesn’t last long after that, if only because the secret nearly spills out every time Louis opens his mouth.

 _Soon_.

*****

“Welcome back.”

The familiar brown-eyed woman smiles brightly at Louis as he hitches his backpack higher on his shoulder. The last person he’d expect to make as his first semi-friend in Portland is the friendly flight attendant, but he’s quick to return the grin.

“Good to be back,” Louis says happily.

Every time Louis lands at Portland International, he reminds himself that one day this city will be his home instead of a quick weekend trip.

The lively city seems to eagerly welcome him each time he returns as if it wants to keep him here permanently. Louis finds himself growing fonder of its expanse green landscape, friendly neighborhoods, and even its hipster shops that Harry insists are just unique. The city holds an alluring charm that strongly contrasts with busier cities like LA, New York or San Francisco. Maybe Harry was right in his insistent selling points of the craft shops, vintage stores, and cafés. Portland comes alive in its relaxed casualty, people walking to work in their jeans with their morning coffee in hand or the expanse greenery coloring the streets. Plus, having no sales tax is probably the biggest bonus of the city. Besides Harry, of course.

In the end, returning to Portland and Harry seems like some kind of homecoming.

After dropping off his bags at the apartment, Louis makes his way to his favorite café. The apartment’s walking distance to the university and as much as Louis wants to practically run all the way to Harry’s class and poke his head in, he fights the urge. The route to Cathedral Coffee is familiar enough to convince Louis that he’s closer to a local rather than a tourist in Portland. His legs work on autopilot, guiding him along the lively streets, warm sun mixed in with cool gusts of wind. The café’s a short distance away from the university and that, in combination with fewer students, has Louis becoming a regular whenever he visits.

“So you got there safely?”

“No, I’m actually calling from the hospital because the plane crashed, but I miraculously survived.”

Zayn groans loudly and Louis’ shoulders bounce as he laughs, wearing a smile of accomplishment. It’s a good day when he can elicit a response out of Zayn. After years of friendship, Zayn has naturally grown immune to Louis’ cynic remarks, so any response—especially exaggerated ones—feels like a reward.

There’s rustling on the other end where Zayn is probably rearranging himself on their couch that they managed to swipe for sixty dollars. Only about two hours has passed since he landed at Portland Airport and made his trek over to University of Portland, but Louis already misses that couch and the apartment they share together. Zayn is alright, Louis supposes, since he makes him a bagel in the morning and has a knack for finding his missing sock. Talking to him like this does make Louis miss him, even if it has only been a handful of hours.

“You _know_ I meant if you got to the university alright. You don’t exactly have the best sense of direction, even at home,” Zayn says pointedly.

Louis smiles to himself as a gentle breeze brushes his face. He knows exactly what Zayn meant, but he also knows how and when to push his best friend enough to get him to be more outwardly caring. Zayn’s tired eyes, rumpled clothing that he somehow manages to make look like he stepped off a Paris fashion show catwalk, and overall demeanor gives off an air of New York indifference. Louis’ _just_ annoying enough to pull caring sentiments out of him, a skill that he would proudly put on his resume.

“I’ve been here before, you know,” Louis says. “Four times, to be exact.”

The count is high given the fact that it’s only May and while Louis may be eating cups of noodles like every college student now, he thinks it’s worth it if he can visit Harry every month. The four trips were only made possible because he’s got a new job with a new pay that can just barely afford monthly tickets to Portland without leaving him homeless. Louis feels like he’s barely scraping by, often feeling like the epitome of a college student when he runs on caffeine and snacks found in the cabinet when he’s out of ramen.

“I don’t need to know your scoreboard of getting fucked, thanks,” Zayn mumbles. 

“Now I’m no math major because I don’t hate myself, but my scoreboard would be more accurate if you multiplied four by—”

“ _And_ ,” Zayn cuts through sharply, “you got lost four times. Harry needs you on a leash.”

“Oh Zaynie, maybe a leash will match the collar he got—”

This time, the volume of Zayn’s groan grows so loud that Louis has to pull the phone away. When he presses it back against his ear, all he hears is the dial tone. He laughs to himself and ends the call, pocketing his phone just as Cathedral Coffee comes into view. He’s become a regular at this point, stopping by whenever he waits for Harry’s class to end or to grab their morning coffee when they need to stretch out their limbs after a lazy fuck. The bell tinkles as he opens the door, soft music crooning over the speakers mingled with a mix of student conversations.

Once Louis puts in his order, he scans the café for an empty seat. A disappointed frown plays on his lips when he sees that all tables are filled with tired, stressed students burying their noses into their books for finals. A flash of worry runs through Louis at the sight because as much as this is a surprise weekend trip, he’s still a student with finals coming up that he can’t exactly neglect. Mentally sifting through his to-do list and reassuring himself he’s done everything he needed, the nerves in his stomach settle down and he breathes easier again. 

“You can sit here if you want.”

Louis turns his head to the owner of the voice, a girl with brown hair and a kind, shy smile. She’s sat in the corner with a large window letting the sunlight wash over her, peering at Louis through her thick framed glasses and a pen in hand. The small table’s overcrowded with a bag of Swedish Fish and a cup, her laptop and school supplies threatening to fall over the edge. The girl reaches for her books and pens, stuffing them into her bag and offering him an encouraging smile.

“Thanks, I’ll just be here for a second while they get my order ready,” Louis replies, pulling a chair out and sitting down. 

“It’s okay, I’m just writing an essay for my English class so I’ll be here for a while if you need the chair,” the girl says, peering over at him over the top of her laptop. 

She doesn’t seem bothered by his presence, the glow of the laptop screen lighting up across her face. Louis’ leg bounces in place, contemplating whether he should strike up a small conversation. He’s sure that she’d rather be finishing up her schoolwork, but the silence between them itches at him. 

He eyes her cup, the steam curling in the air through the small opening. “You have any recommendations?”

The girl flicks her gaze from her screen to her drink before meeting his eyes again. “I’m not too big on coffee, but the green tea or raspberry leaf is good here.”

She pronounces the word like _cawfee_ , her accent clear and familiar in Louis’ ears. His lips curl in a suggestion of a smile as he leans on the table with his elbows.

“New Yorker?” Louis asks with a slight tilt of his head.

The question seems to perk her up as she sits higher in her chair, leaning closer as if they’re indulging in some classified secret. Her brown bangs fall in front of her glasses and she brushes them away, peering over at him curiously. 

“That was quick,” she replies, bringing the cup to her lips to take a small sip.

“My best friend's from New York. Are you East Coasters moving here to help prove that the West Coast is actually better?” Louis asks with a poorly-restrained smile.

“No, I think we’re trying to help you guys be better like it is over on the East Coast,” she quips, mirroring his smile.

When Louis opens his mouth to respond, a barista shouts out his name. He gives the girl a smile and makes his way to the counter to grab his coffees before returning to the table, fingers tapping against the wood. 

“Alright, New Yorker. I’ve gotta go, but thanks for sharing your table with me,” Louis says. “Good luck on your finals and that essay.”

“I’ll need it,” the girl laughs softly.

With a final nod, Louis makes his way through the groups of people. He lingers at the door, shooting a glance at the girl where she's already gazing over and giving him a small wave. Wrapping her hand around her cup, Louis can just make out the letter _N_ between her fingertips before customers are filing through the door and squeezing him outside.

Another admission Louis fully plans on keeping to himself is that East Coasters may be okay.

*****

There’s a familiar dread permeating the air as Louis walks through the campus, students’ heads hanging low with their shoulders sagged down as if weighed down by the stress of finals. He navigates the campus with ease, heading towards Harry’s class with the cups of coffee in hand. He’s never sat through one of his classes despite how adamant Harry is, but he allows himself the small luxury of peeking inside, even if that means risking looking like a complete creep.

Louis fights the urge to just wander by his classroom to catch a quick glimpse of him, instead heading to his office.

He’s familiar with the office, but it’s always interesting to actually see the changes that he’s only ever heard about or seen in pictures. Harry talks his ear off about it not being _his_ office and that he shares it with another professor, but there are glimpses of him everywhere. On the wall behind the desk is a string with polaroids of them and his family hanging off it. There’s a literature-inspired candle sitting on his desk that Louis got him for Christmas and the wick’s never been touched because _it’s for aesthetics, Louis and I’m not about to get fired for starting a fire at work_. A cup houses a too-large variety of pens because apparently professors need a certain pen for every mood and students can really bring out a mess of emotions out of them.

Louis’ sat in the big office chair behind the desk, taking his time drawing hearts or writing little messages like _give Annie an A because her essay was amazing_ and _remember to turn off the office lights, you always forget_ and _I miss you all the time_ on each post-it note when the door swings open.

And—the pen and post it slips from Louis’ hands, his heart beating thunderously in his chest as everything around him seems to pause just for this very moment. No amount of Zoom calls or FaceTime could ever do Harry justice. Louis doesn’t think the novelty of seeing Harry will ever wear off, not if the way his breath gets caught in his throat is anything to go by.

Harry doesn’t notice him at first, rubbing his eye with a knuckle with a slight frown. He lets his shoulder bag, the one Louis got him for Christmas, slide down his arm and onto the floor with a loud _thump_ as if even the bag is exhausted from a long day. His hair’s all ruffled like he’s been running his fingers through it all day, curls framing his defined jaw that’s peppered with scruff.

Seeing Harry as an actual professor will never get old to Louis as his eyes soak him in. The casual attire of a student-teacher is gone and now Harry’s got on a button up under a sweater vest that _both_ have stripes on it because someone with a face like Harry’s can actually pull that off. His beige trousers ride up high on his waist, loose and wide around the legs like he’s been preferring lately. By the time Louis’ done taking all of him in, he’s got a smile stretched wide across his face, cheekbones feeling like they’re about to burst just from happiness alone.

“Hello Professor Styles,” Louis greets, but even he can’t bring himself to feign a nonchalant expression when he sees Harry’s mouth dropped open in surprise. 

“Lou, you’re... but don't you... _how_ did you…” Harry rambles to himself, green eyes wide in disbelief.

“Complete sentences. You can do it,” Louis says. He stands up from the chair to round the desk, hopping on the edge of it and swinging his legs back and forth.

Once Harry hears Louis’ voice, clear and crisp, it snaps him out of his thoughts. A smile instantly flashes onto his face, paired with his dimples that Louis missed so much, and he rushes to close the gap between them. Harry doesn’t waste another second before he’s locking an arm around his waist and cupping the side of Louis’ jaw, tipping his head back from the force of their kiss. Their lips move excitedly, almost frantically, against each other that’s more of a clash of teeth and tongue than a kiss. There’s an electric undercurrent that runs through all their kisses, from the very first time up until now, and Louis doesn’t see that changing anytime soon, not if Harry keeps kissing him the way he does—eager and warm, tongue dipping in to slide against his own. 

“What are you doing here?” Harry pants once they break apart, nudging the tips of their noses together. He blinks slowly, the way he does when he first wakes up in the morning, as if he were waking up from his own dreamy slumber now. Louis kisses him to remind him that he’s very much awake and that he’s here, in Portland, with him.

“I was really craving coffee from Cathedral Coffee, so my sugar daddy flew me out here,” Louis answers and curls in on himself when Harry’s fingers dig into his ribs, tickling him. “And because I missed you.”

“Don’t your finals start Monday?” Harry asks. He pulls Louis in closer until they’re pressed together like he can’t stand it if there’s even an inch of space between them. 

Louis shrugs, tightening his arms around Harry’s waist. “I studied everything already. Zayn tested me three times and I did the study guides about ten times over,” He says.

“You brought your notes and everything here, didn’t you?”

“Well, yes, I’m not spending _every_ second focusing on you.”

“And your job?” Harry presses, cocking an eyebrow.

“They can survive without me for a couple of days,” Louis replies with a smile and pats him twice on the chest. He’s been planning this trip since the beginning of April, making sure there was someone to cover him for the mere three days he’s here. “Don’t worry, Professor Styles.”

Harry groans and ducks down to capture his lips again, tongue swiping hotly over Louis’ lips before licking into his mouth eagerly. Reuning with Harry will never get dull, but Louis will never get over their first touch after weeks apart. Louis’ hands lay flat on Harry’s chest, gripping his sweater vest to pull him closer as their lips move together. The fervency dies down slowly to a languid move of tongues and mouths, but Louis can’t find it in himself to pull away quite yet. It’s hard to be without Harry and his touch for so long that Louis has no idea how he’s survived it so far when it’s _this_ good, one of Harry’s arms locked around his waist, the other cupping his cheek, their chests pressed together.

“How long do I have you for?” Harry murmurs against his lips, kissing the corner of his mouth.

 _Always_ , Louis thinks immediately. His stomach churns the way it always does when he thinks about leaving. If he had it his way, he'd never leave Harry or Portland. Flying back and forth gets tiring and restless when the rest of his life seems to be waiting for him here in this city that’s captured his heart. Going back to California gets harder when in Portland, it's Sunday morning waffles and pancakes, going out for walks in the park, and always always _always_ Harry.

As difficult as it is to be away from Harry, Louis finds it hard to complain when they seem to be on the right track now. For now, Louis will take what he can get and that’s the odd weekend every month.

“Three days. I leave Sunday morning so I can squeeze in any last minute studying and prepare for finals on Monday,” Louis says instead, thumbing into the hinge of his jaw.

“Grabbed us some coffee before hiding out here for your little surprise?” Harry replies with a pleased smile. He steps out of Louis’ orbit and Louis has to actually bite down a sound of protest when Harry rounds the corner of his desk to plop down in the leather chair. Taking a sip of his coffee, Harry lets out a satisfied hum of approval and beams at Louis.

Hopping off the desk, Louis crowds into his space again by standing between Harry’s thighs. They move in sync with each other, knowing the other’s moves immediately, and Harry’s already got his arms open when Louis nudges in close. He wraps his arms around Louis’ middle and ducks his head to muzzle into Louis’ soft belly while Louis’ fingers idly scratch at his hair.

After a minute, Harry tilts his head and peers up at him through tired eyes. “How was grabbing coffee and seeing the city again?”

Louis giggles when Harry sinks his teeth into his skin through the cotton of his shirt and gently tugs on a curl. “Mm, it was good. The weather’s amazing and I missed the vibe of it here,” Louis says, warmth dripping down his spine when he feels Harry smile against his skin. “Oh, and I met a girl.”

Harry tilts his head up, cocking an amused eyebrow. “A girl?”

“Yeah,” Louis replies with a coy smile as he gazes down at him, brushing a lock of hair out of his face. “She was really nice. Another New Yorker like Zaynie, your favorite.”

“Are all New Yorkers trying to steal you away?” Harry groans, tugging Louis in closer.

“She looks like she’d peg me,” Louis muses and jumps when Harry pinches his ass, a bright laugh falling out his mouth. “You’re lucky that I only want you, though.”

“Oh!”

Louis jerks back, stumbling backwards until his legs collide with a cabinet. Cursing under his breath, Louis glances up and meets the eyes of the girl at the café from earlier. She’s got her books clutched in one arm and her signature thick-framed glasses slide down the bridge of her nose. Pushing her glasses up with her finger, Café Girl lingers by the door with a hesitant expression as if she’s not entirely sure what to make of the situation.

“Sorry Professor Styles, is this a bad time?” The girl mutters.

“No, no, you’re fine,” Harry reassures, beckoning her inside with a wave of his hand. He turns to Louis with a bright smile. “Remember the student with the glasses I was telling you about?” Harry asks. "Louis, this is N-”

“New Yorker,” Louis says, lips twisting to keep him from smiling too widely. “Haz, this is the girl I met at the café. She was working really hard on your essay before, so you should just give her full points.”

Their familiar gestures come into play even though nothing’s a secret. Louis recognizes the way Harry’s stone face from keeping himself from being overly fond, his face composed and red lips faintly tinged with a smile. It’s some kind of thrilling to be with Harry in this new way, no heavy burden weighing them down. “Don't think it works like that, Lou.”

“It can be,” New Yorker chirps with a hopeful smile.

“You're my smartest student and you're a stem major,” Harry chuckles, the chair squeaking under his weight as he stands up.

Louis can’t even restrain the look of disgust that spreads over his face and New Yorker catches it, laughing quietly. With a hand on the small of Louis’ back, Harry leads them out the door. Louis glances over his shoulder and waves to the girl, throwing her a quick thumbs up before she’s out of sight. Standing right outside Harry’s office, Louis turns around and smiles up at Harry who’s already staring at him like he wants to devour him.

“I won’t take long,” Harry says. “I’ll meet you outside when I’m done, yeah?” 

“New Yorker's waiting for you, Professor Styles,” Louis murmurs, palm flat on his sternum as he peers up at him. He gives his chest a little pat and presses on his toes to kiss the corner of his mouth because he has no self-control and it just seems like a waste, really—to not kiss Harry when he’s close like this, milky skin peppered with facial hair and green eyes that are still glazed over like he still can’t quite believe Louis here. They’re not hiding in custodian closets anymore and any opportunity to kiss, touch, _be_ with Harry begs to be taken now that they can.

So Louis balls up the fabric of Harry’s sweater vest in his hands to pull him down, their lips meeting in a fervent kiss. Sending a silent apology to New Yorker, Louis smiles into the kiss before breaking apart and giving him a gentle shove. Louis turns on his heels, walking out of the building with flushed skin and kiss-bruised lips, happy to finally have these next three days.

*****

Mornings in Portland are both the best and the worst.

Without fail, Louis always wakes up earlier than should be allowed, eyelids heavy with sleep and Harry pressed up close behind him. Sleep doesn’t come back to him no matter how hard he tries and it’s only a matter of time before he gets tired of scrolling through his phone.

Waking up before Harry is something close to criminal, but Louis flips over and shifts backwards just enough to take in all of Harry’s details. Early mornings allow him the luxury to drink in the sight of him without quickly looking away when Harry catches him. He’s all long limbs, bare and littered with tattoos, defined chest rising and falling with every breath. His hair lays in a messy halo of curls around his head and his pink lips even more pouty in his sleep.

He should probably stop staring at him, maybe wake him up and force him to make breakfast, but there’s something about the soft morning light washing over him combined with specks of dust dancing in the streak of sun. Louis thinks he can lay here like this, tucked in close beside Harry in their home they’ve made together, and be the happiest person in the world and he’s not even being hyperbolic.

“Haz,” Louis whispers softly, tucking a fallen curl behind his ear. “Wake up, I’m hungry.”

“What do you want me to do about that? The kitchen is down the hall.”

Louis pats his chest and begins to shuffle out of Harry’s arms. “Alright, have a good weekend, bud.”

Harry huffs out a laugh and tightens his arms around him, hauling him in close again. Louis gives in easily because he’ll never say no to Harry, not even when he’s actually hungry and Harry’s being annoying first thing in the morning. Harry presses his dry morning lips to Louis’ bare shoulder, dragging his lips across his skin until he reaches the crook of his neck. He gently bites down, smirking against Louis’ skin when he lets out a surprised gasp, and drags his tongue over the bite.

“Missed waking up with you,” Harry whispers against his lips, gently running his finger down the bridge of Louis' nose.

Pulling his head back, Harry gazes at him intently, the muscles in his face loose and relaxed like he’s too busy with his own daydream to even be aware of how hard he’s staring. His pink lips ghost into a smile, green eyes flicking everywhere from his nose, eyes, and mouth as if he can’t keep his focus on one place for too long. It’s a look Louis likes to think is reserved just for him and he lets Harry swim in his own thoughts, letting the quiet blanket between them. Louis only recognizes this look because he catches himself doing it to Harry, staring at him for too long before something snaps him out of it.

“Mm, thought about you all the time,” Louis replies with a soft smile, leaning up to kiss him again with their dry morning lips.

“Yeah? What’d you think about?” Harry asks curiously. His hands glide down his back and rest just over the swell of his ass, a playful smile ghosting his lips.

“Your cock,” Louis says matter-of-factly like it’s the most obvious answer in the world. He arches back into Harry’s touch, goes breathless when his fingers dip into the crease of his ass. “I thought about how much I missed it, how my fingers were never enough.”

Kneading his bum with eager hands, Harry shoves a leg between Louis’ and rocks their hips together. Their hardening cocks brush up against each other, a whimper falling out of Louis’ mouth as he rakes his fingers down Harry’s back.

“What else?” Harry grits, kissing him quickly and breaking apart with a click of their lips.

“Thought of your c-cock stretching me open,” Louis gasps, throwing his head back when Harry rubs his hot prick between Louis’ cheeks. “Wanted it so bad, thought about you so much.”

“Yeah? Fucked you last night and it still wasn’t enough for you,” Harry clicks his tongue as if he’s disappointed. Louis’ face heats up with embarrassment at the fact that last night’s fuck wasn’t anywhere near enough. It was too quick, both of them restless after a long day. “Even all the videos and pictures I sent you weren’t enough to help you, baby? Need my cock to fill you up all the time, right?”

“Please,” Louis murmurs, burying his face into Harry’s shoulder and bucking his hips. Harry doesn’t break, just teases him by grazing his fingertips down the center of his ass and kisses a trail from his shoulder to behind his ear. “Haz, _touch_ me.”

Louis knows Harry can’t hold out for long, not when it’s been so long and his begging is accompanied by his naked golden body against the sheets, all for Harry’s taking. With a hoarse groan, Harry pushes Louis onto his back and chases after him with a hungry gaze in his eyes. Louis spreads his legs, eyes dropping down to the large bulge under Harry’s briefs and he unconsciously licks his lips. He shimmies his own briefs down his legs and tilts his hips up invitingly. A sound close to a growl rips out of Harry and he reaches for the lube on their nightstand, pulling his briefs down his legs.

His hard cock bobs up against his taut stomach muscles, red and throbbing. A pool of precome glistens at the tip, slowly running down his length and Louis’ mouth nearly waters at the sight, feeling horribly empty.

“Eager little princess this morning,” Harry coos. “So hungry for cock when you just had it last night.”

“Want it,” Louis says immediately, too dizzy to feel ashamed or deny it. He slips one hand under his knee, nearly folding himself in half, and spreads his cheeks with his other hand. “I-inside me, _please_.”

Harry knees in closer, squeezing lube into the palm of his hand and fisting his cock. Shiny and wet with lube, Harry rubs the fat cockhead over Louis’ pink rim. “Want this inside you? Filling you up?”

“Yeah,” Louis replies breathily. He writhes when Harry pushes forward slightly, his cock squeezing inside his hole before he draws back. Biting back a groan, Louis reaches down to desperately claw at his thigh. “Please Haz, need it. Thought about you all the time, even in my classes. I _missed_ you, plea— _oh!_ ”

Rough hands grip Louis under his knees and presses them against his chest, folding him in half. Harry kisses his thigh before ducking his head, spitting on Louis’ pink rim and watching the glob of saliva slowly trail down the cleft of his ass. Groaning to himself, Harry slides in a lubed finger.

“You sure you can take it, baby?” Harry asks. “You’re tight and I just fucked you last night.”

“Make me,” Louis pants eagerly, toes curling when a second finger slides in. “If you think I can’t, then make me take it.”

A loud groan punches out of Harry and he brings his hand down, quick and sharp, on Louis’ ass. The cheeks catch the blow, bouncing under the blow with pink blooming under its wake. 

“Gorgeous, baby,” Harry mutters under his breath as if he’s talking more to himself. He slowly pumps his fingers in and out, dark eyes trailing over Louis’ small cock lying against his stomach, his pert nipples, and up to his red-bitten lips. His other hand runs up his side and thumbs at his nipples, smiling when Louis gasps and arches into the touch. “Love you so much, can’t wait to have you like this forever.”

“Ready, I’m ready, just— _inside_ ,” Louis babbles, voice straining when Harry pinches his nipple.

Thrusting his fingers in one last time, Harry grazes his prostate and smirks as Louis jerks. He slips his fingers out and squeezes another dollop of lube into the palm of his hand. Louis slowly brings himself to open his eyes, gaze falling on Harry who watches him like he wants to devour him, an angry, deep furrow between his brows and a hand quickly working his thick cock with a wet, slapping noise.

“Haz,” Louis nearly sobs, tightly shutting his eyes again. “I need you, I _missed_ you, c’mon.”

“Got you, baby,” Harry replies, shuffling closer until his cock rests in the crease of his ass, hot and pulsing. He gently swipes Louis’ sweaty fringe off his forehead and presses his lips to his temple. 

“ _Fuck_ , there we go,” Harry groans, slowly feeding his cock into Louis’ hole, inch by thick inch. He hangs his head down, watching his length disappear between Louis’ plump cheeks, his shiny red hole hugging around him. “Always take me so well, don’t you? Such a _good_ boy.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Louis preens dreamily, pleasure washing over him once he’s full. Harry’s hips rest against his ass and he locks his legs around his waist, keeping him close.

Pressing a hand beside Louis’ head, Harry looms over him and pulls out before fucking back in to the hilt, balls slapping loudly against Louis’ ass. His breathing gets broken, nothing more than huffs of air punched out of him with every thrust jostling him further up the bed. Harry ducks his head, wet mouth seeking every inch of Louis’ skin, tongue licking along his shoulder and up his neck.

“You like how I’m fucking you open?” Harry grunts, pistoning his hips at a merciless pace. He nudged his nose into Louis’ cheek, warm breath fanning over his face as he nips at his jawline. “Pretty little hole just swallowing my cock up.”

“Uh, uh, _yes_ ,” Louis hiccups, mouth feeling numb as senseless sounds drip out his lips. He barely hears Harry’s words, his mind narrowed down to his cock pumping into him hotly, filling him up over and over again. 

Louis’ head feels dizzy, too overwhelmed from having Harry like this again, too close and having it still not be enough. His cock leaves a smear of precome on his belly, bouncing around as Harry continues to snap his hips roughly. The sound of their skins slapping together reverberate off the walls, entangled with their strained moans and the headboard smacking. Louis squeezes down around Harry’s prick, whimpering when Harry groans loudly and drops his head to his shoulder.

“Such a good boy, just lying there and taking me,” Harry pants, voice hoarse with desire. “Gonna be like this every day, give you whatever you want.”

A choked sob breaks out of Louis as warmth shoots down his spine and all the way to his toes. He digs his heels into Harry’s back, legs strained from being folded against his chest for so long. He spreads them further to eagerly take the thick girth deeper, burying his face into Harry’s damp shoulder to muffle his cries.

“Oh, oh— _ah_ ,” Louis cries out, babbling, “yes, _Haz_ –right there!”

“Yeah? Feel good, baby?” Harry asks, pounding into him harder. Louis’ cheeks bounce with every thrust, blooming red under the force and all he can think is _more more more_.

“Feels s-so good,” Louis muffles into Harry’s skin. The words encourage Harry to hammer into him faster, pressing a series of kisses into his cheek until he fits their mouths together desperately. “Uh, uh, _uh!_ ”

“Come for me, princess,” Harry murmurs against his mouth, swiping his tongue over his swollen bottom lip. A hand closes around Louis’ cock, giving him something to fuck into every time Harry plunges into him. His hand practically engulfs his small length, covering it entirely. He thumbs over his wet slit and Louis shudders, a high-pitched whimper falling out of him. “Feel so good around me.”

“Ah, gonna—gonna c-come,” Louis gasps, the pit of his stomach swirling with heat.

“Come for me.”

Harry tightens his hand around Louis’ cockLouis’ body seizes as he comes and he throws his head back into the pillow, eyes squeezed shut as he spurts all over Harry’s hand and his own stomach. His hole spasms around Harry’s thick cock, clenching down so tightly that Harry’s thrusts suddenly stop as he groans and bites down on Louis’ shoulder.

“Fuck, _fuck_ ,” Harry swears, slamming into Louis relentlessly. The oversensitivity drives Louis into a sobbing mess, lying there useless as he takes Harry’s last few erratic thrusts.

With one final grind, Harry’s red mouth falls open on a harsh moan, spilling wet, hot come inside of him. Louis preens at the feeling, hard cock still pulsing heavily inside him and raking his fingers through the mess of Harry’s curls. Collapsing on top of Louis, Harry shudders and wraps his arms around him tightly, blanketing him with his body.

Their panting falls in tandem with one another, chests heaving for air with the morning light spilling over them. Loose-limbed and unfathomably happy in the wake of his post-coital haze, Harry slowly slips out of Louis with an obscene wet noise and lathers him with kisses. Happily taking whatever he’s given, Louis smiles lazily against Harry when he locks their lips together.

“Let me make you breakfast,” Harry whispers softly, green eyes boring into his as he rests their foreheads together. A soothing hand rubs up and down Louis’ side, the touch so close and familiar that Louis has no idea how he’s survived any amount of time away from it. “After that, we can head to the store. We need to pick up a few things.”

That single syllable _we_ holds more weight than a pronoun has any right to, but the word flutters around in his chest wildly. Flicking his gaze down to Harry's full lips, Louis leans in subconsciously with his mouth parted. The smell of Harry’s morning scent clouds over him, making him dizzy with the need to be _close close close_.

“Okay,” Louis nods, tilting up to kiss him again.

Harry doesn’t make any move to get out of bed, completely content with lying there with Louis with their limbs tangled together and their hearts thumping loudly against their chests, slowly coming down from something more than just their releases.

*****

“Babe, stop sneaking in bags of chips when I’m not looking.”

“I’m not sneaking anything. I’ve got no shame buying four bags of chips. I’m a college student.”

Portland’s made Louis realize that there’s a lot about Harry that he hasn't seen or experienced. The city’s allowed him to see that even Harry can make the most mundane things seem like a trip to Disneyland.

One of his favorite things he’s discovered is how Harry is when he goes grocery shopping. They’d never _really_ gone to the grocery before, not in the way that matters, not without meticulous and careful planning and even then it wasn’t anything close to the real thing. Portland’s opened an entire new side to Harry that Louis is eager to take in. Harry can take hours inside a grocery store, green eyes marveling at each item as if it's his first time looking at food. Harry’s a man of curiosity, from a professor all the way to how he shops, while Louis’ a creature of habit, opting to reach for his favorites instead of trying something new.

The store’s rush of air wraps around Louis like a blanket, but he comes prepared with Harry's brown sweater thrown on top of his own to fight off the cold. Harry grabs a cart and begins to roll it down the aisles as Louis stays close by his side, their shoulders occasionally knocking together. Once they enter the snack section, Louis grabs random snacks off the shelves and gives them a quick once over before tossing it into the cart.

“Okay, but do you really need two bags of the same chips?” Harry asks with a fond smile.

Louis peers up at him with a matching grin. “One of them is for home and the other is for the airport,” He answers.

“Our cabinet at home is starting to look like the shelves at a convenience store,” Harry laughs, squeezing his hip tightly as he continues wheeling their cart.

His stomach swoops at the word _home_ , the way it always does when that particular word falls out his mouth. At times, Louis can’t wrap his mind around the fact that he has a home here in Portland with Harry. There’s coffee shops, pancakes in the mornings, and grocery shopping that's waiting for him. A thrill runs through Louis like a current as he watches Harry peruse the aisle, green eyes flicking between two different brands of Louis’ favorite—salt and vinegar chips and it’s so oddly domestic and comforting that it feels like a physical strain to not march over to Harry and litter him with kisses. People maneuver their way around him, but he remains frozen in place with his eyes pinned on Harry because now that he can openly go out and watch him, Louis doesn’t waste a second.

“Are we out of milk?”

The rumble of Harry's deep, rough voice snaps Louis out of his thoughts. At the end of the aisle, Harry's staring into the fridges of the dairy section.

“ _You_ are out of your almond milk,” Louis says. He grabs two bags and sidles up behind him, quickly sweeping up his favorite brand. He places everything in their cart that's starting to look dangerously full and Harry begins to push it again. “I grabbed you two bags of your favorite coffee.”

“Mm, _two_ bags. Thanks, baby,” Harry smiles, pulling him in closer and pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

“You say that like I’m paying,” Louis rolls his eyes and squeals lightly when Harry's fingers dig into his ribcage. He pries Harry’s arm off him and skips ahead, glancing at him over his shoulder with a grin. “And don’t flatter yourself, you’re not that special. It was a buy one, get one half off deal.”

Louis wishes his coffee was on sale because of course Harry's favorite would be the most expensive, but he laughs as he says it anyway. He jets off as soon as he hears the wheels of the cart squeaking quickly against the floors, his laughter ringing throughout the store. The linoleum tiles, reflecting the fluorescent lights above, collide loudly under Louis’ shoes as he rushes down the aisle with Harry close behind him. He’s just about to turn the corner when a strong arm loops around his waist and hauls him backwards, his back bumping against Harry’s chest.

“Causing a scene in the store?” Harry murmurs into the shell of his ear, hot breath sending a shiver down Louis’ spine. “They’re gonna kick you out.”

“Not if you hurry up,” Louis laughs. He shoves at his chest until Harry takes a step back and Louis can turn around, pushing their cart in an aimless direction.

“Remember when you told me chewing gum while you study helps you memorize information?” Harry says. He glances at Louis and waits for his nod before continuing. “I was thinking of—do we need more hand soap?”

“No, but that one smells like peaches and it’s on sale, so let’s get it anyways,” Louis replies, plucking the bottle out of Harry’s hands and tossing it into their cart. “You were thinking of what?”

“Oh, I was thinking of getting gum for my students for their finals,” Harry finishes his thought. He places one hand on the handle of their cart, lightly pushing it along with Louis, and runs his pinky along his knuckles.

“As if your students need another reason to fall in love with you,” Louis mumbles with a dramatic roll of his eyes. “Didn’t someone leave roses for you in your office on Valentine’s Day?”

A honk of laughter bursts out of Harry as he throws his head back at the memory. “Yeah, and they definitely weren’t addressed from you, so it was a student. Never found out who it was though.”

“That’s because— _oh_ , we need more laundry detergent,” Louis says and watches the flex of Harry's arm as he hauls it into their cart. “Anyway, that’s because I spent all my money flying here for your birthday and I still had chocolate covered strawberries delivered to you.”

Harry coos, wrapping an arm around Louis' shoulder. “Do you miss being my student, Lou?”

“Technically, you were never my professor,” Louis quips haughtily with his nose in the air, only to break out in a wide smile as soon as he hears Harry's laughter in his ears. He plucks packets of gum off the shelf and tosses them into their cart, biting down a smile when Harry presses his finger into his hip.

They pile up the trunk of Harry's car with their bags filled with items for their home as the sun begins to set, casting a soft glow on them. Louis isn’t one to romanticize anything, but Harry’s got his belly swirling with warmth and unfathomable happiness over _grocery_ shopping. He thinks it’s not so much romanticization as Harry being so infectious that anything and everything will look appealing as long as he’s got him by his side.

“I did miss you, though,” Louis says once they buckle in their seatbelts and the car starts. Harry glances over at him, his face soft and endlessly fond. He reaches over and grabs Louis’ chin between his thumb and forefinger to bring their mouths together.

“Don’t think there’s ever a time where I’m not missing you,” Harry mumbles against his lips.

It’d be frightening, how easily Harry can make Louis excited about grocery shopping, laundry detergent, and dish soap, if he wasn’t too busy falling in love with him.

*****

Louis would love to spend the entire weekend lazing around or going out, but finals _are_ coming up and as much as he doesn’t mind studying, he also can’t deny that staying in with Harry isn’t the worst scenario.

Fingers clicking against the keyboard, textbook pages turning, and pen against paper serve as the soundtrack to their Saturday afternoon. Harry works hard at his desk while Louis studies on the couch that Harry insisted on getting him for the office despite Louis’ resistance, arguing that it was a waste of money. Harry had just looked at him incredulously, saying _why would it be a waste if it’s for you?_ and with a roll of his eyes and blushed cheeks, Louis had grumbled _just say you wanted a couch so you could fuck me in it._

Even in his gray shirt clinging to his skin and black sweatpants, Harry somehow manages to achieve some level of casual beauty. Louis’ eyes flick over to him from time to time as if he can’t go too long without looking at him, drinking in his mussed hair, the concentrated furrow between his eyebrows, his broad shoulders moving under his shirt every time he goes to scribble something in his notebook. 

A frustrated sigh breaks Louis out of his concentration and he looks up from his notes to glance at Harry. He's slumped back in his seat, raking a frustrated hand through his hair with the corners of his lips pulled downward in a frown.

“A student just emailed me saying even if he aces the final, he wouldn't get a passing grade for the class. He asked if there's any extra credit work he can do,” Harry sighs heavily. “I don’t have any extra credit work and I’d feel like an asshole if he just fails, but I don't think I have time to come up with any for him.”

Louis sets his pen down and hums thoughtfully, leaning back against the cushions of the couch. “Don’t you have a list of prompts from your English 100 class that you didn’t use because you were scared they were too hard for them?” He asks. “Why don’t you rework it a bit so it fits for this class and let him choose which one he wants?”

“I don’t think I have it anymore. I threw it out after redoing it,” Harry sighs heavily, frustration practically vibrating off his tense shoulders.

“You sent me a picture of it because you were excited to finish your first handout of prompts,” Louis replies easily, picking up his pen again and returning his gaze down to his notes. “It's probably in our messages.”

His notes capture his attention again, his brain already zoning in on his work that he barely registers the sudden quiet in the room. Glancing up from his work, Louis catches Harry staring at him intently. His green eyes stay pinned on him, somehow focused and soft at the same time.

“What?” Louis asks, tilting his head to the side. “Do you want me to look for it? I can do it for you, it probably won’t take long. _Relax_ , Professor Styles.”

“Come here.”

“You're gonna make me walk _all_ the way over—”

“Come _here_ , you're so annoying.”

Standing up with an exaggerated groan, Louis makes his way over to him with quick steps. Harry’ eyes follow him, legs opening immediately so Louis can stand between them.

“I love you,” Harry sighs, wrapping his arms around Louis’ waist.

Louis frowns, reaching his hand up to thumb over the furrow between Harry’s eyebrows. Sighing contentedly, Harry gives him a tired smile and turns his head to press a kiss to the palm of Louis’ hands. His warm lips against his skin sends a shiver down Louis' spine, suddenly desperate for more. Steadying himself on the armrest, Louis carefully climbs into Harry’s lap, the chair creaking under their combined weight. Harry gasps and his hands fly to grip Louis’ waist, fingers digging into his skin as he curiously watches him.

“Let me relax you,” Louis murmurs against his skin, peppering kisses from the base of his neck and up to his jaw.

“You mean _distract_ me,” Harry grits, fingers tightening on his skin as if to ground him, but Louis smiles to himself when he rubs against Harry’s hardening cock underneath him.

“You’ve been working hard all day,” Louis continues softly. He kisses the high point of his cheekbone, the corner of his lips, and then seals their mouths together. Harry’s will breaks the second their lips are on each other, moving quickly and desperately. He barely slips his tongue in Louis’ mouth when he pulls away, a string of saliva connecting their lips. “Just want to help you like a good housewife, yeah?”

Harry’s hips jerk up and a soft groan rumbles in his throat. “Louis,” He warns roughly.

“I'd have dinner cooked for you when you get home from a long day of work,” Louis continues softly, rocking down to rub their hardening cocks together. He brings his lips to Harry’s ear, nipping at his earlobe. “I’ll be all pretty for you, even wear lace while I do the dishes. I’ll help you whenever you need me.”

Harry’s eyes flick down to Louis’ wet and pink lips before meeting his gaze again, cocking an eyebrow. “Yeah, baby? How were you gonna help me, hm?” He asks, thumbs rubbing circles on his hips. “Or are you just using that an excuse because you’re a needy slut?”

A loud whimper drips out Louis’ mouth as he falls forward, wrapping his arm around Harry’s shoulders and nuzzling into his neck. “You can use me,” Louis mumbles into his skin, his hips already working on their own accord and rubbing down on Harry’s cock. “Use me however you want.”

“Because all you want is to take, right?” Harry scoffs. His hands slide from his waist to his ass, gripping it tightly in his hands and groaning. “You just want to take whatever I give you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Louis nods dumbly, pressing a kiss to the sensitive spot behind Harry’s ear. He leans back, smiling at Harry demurely as his hand reaches down between them to cup his hard bulge. “Let me relax you.”

Surging forward, Harry sucks Louis’ bottom lip into his mouth, squeezing his ass to pull him in closer until all they know is the heat that fills them. Louis mewls into his mouth, one hand tangling into Harry’s hair and the other still working the length of his cock, hot and throbbing.

“How about you keep me warm?” Harry pants against his lips. “I’ll finish up my work and if you’re good then I’ll reward you. Does that sound fair, princess?”

Louis nods eagerly, happy to take anything Harry will give him. A smirk spreads across Harry’s face at seeing Louis come undone at the simplest offer, pressing their lips together in a chaste kiss. Louis captures his bottom lip between his teeth as he works the zipper down and reaches inside his pants to wrap his hand around his hard length. They both groan at the touch, Harry’s hips jumping when Louis puts the slightest pressure right under the head of his leaking cock.

Wrapping an arm around Louis’ waist to keep him close, Harry opens a desk drawer and pulls out a bottle of lube. He gives Louis’ hip a soft pat, drawing a pout from Louis who reluctantly leans back to let Harry tug his joggers and briefs down his legs, tossing them onto the floor. He squeezes a generous amount onto his fingers, lathering them in the cool gel to warm it up before reaching behind Louis and running a teasing finger over his rim.

Gasping sharply, Louis arches back into the touch with his pink lips dropping open with a high-pitched mewl. “Want it,” He breathes, shuddering when a long finger finally slides inside.

“Still loose after yesterday,” Harry comments indifferently, pumping his finger out at a slow, torturous pace. He almost looks _bored_ and Louis whimpers, eager to capture his attention again. “Should keep you like this all the time so I can use you whenever I want.”

A second finger glides through and Harry angles his fingers to hit his prostate, steadying Louis with a firm hand on his hip when he falls against him. Louis’ moan gets muffled against Harry’s neck, hot breaths fanning over his skin as he swivels his hips to get his fingers deeper. He scissors his fingers while pressing his lips to Louis’ hair, stretching him out intently. Slipping his fingers out, Harry gently lifts Louis’ hips and fists the base of his cock with a groan. He cranes his neck to kiss him once and hungrily kneads his ass, giving him a light smack.

“C’mon, baby. Sit on my cock and keep me warm like a good housewife,” Harry murmurs.

“ _Please_ ,” Louis cries, resting his hands on Harry’s shoulder slowly sinking down and impaling himself on cock. Harry’s stone expression doesn’t break, full lips set in a firm line and arms lying on the chair’s armrest. The metal zipper digs into Louis’ thighs, but all he can feel is how full he is, how Harry’s cock is so thick that it touches every sensitive nerve.

Harry drags Louis’ shirt over his head, leaving him completely bare on his lap and stuffed full of his prick while he’s still clothed. A sigh of content drips out of Louis’ lips, his eyes fluttering shut as he relaxes against Harry. He thinks he can stay like this for the rest of the day, perched on Harry’s lap and keeping him snug in his tight heat as he works, typing and scribbling away. Harry gently shifts underneath him, jostling his cock inside him and Louis buries his heated face into Harry’s neck, muffling a whine there.

“Feels so good,” Harry murmurs affectionately, running a hand up and down the length of Louis’ back. His fingers glide down to tease his rim where he’s hugging Harry’s prick and he clenches down instinctively, moaning breathily. Harry grunts, hips jumping and groaning at the sight of Louis’ belly slightly bulging. “Wish I could have you on my cock all the time. You’d love that, right? Stuffed full of me?”

“ _Oh_ , yes yes,” Louis nods frantically, curling his toes to fight off the urge to bounce on his cock.

“Be good just a little bit longer, I’m almost done,” Harry says, patting his hip affectionately.

The sound of the keyboard clicking and their soft breathing filters through Louis’ cloudy mind, eyes heavy with content. He revels in being good, keeping still as much as possible to get what he wants sooner. The throbbing of Harry’s cock inside him, occasionally shifting around whenever he moves around in the seat, snaps Louis’ eyes back open when he drifts off, biting back a whimper every time. It’s only when the quiet becomes too much that Louis tightens his legs around Harry, the ache becoming a dull pain.

“On the couch, baby,” Harry pants heavily, dark eyes pinned on the sight of Louis’ flushed skin, sweaty hair matted to his forehead.

With a slight pout, Louis lifts himself off of Harry’s cock and pads over to the couch on shaky legs. He lies down, stretching himself out prettily with one leg draping over the headrest of the couch. He arches his back, tilting his hips up to show off his glistening hole, waiting to be filled back up again. Harry nearly snarls at the sight, making his way over to him while tearing off his clothes and leaving a trail behind him. His cock, angry red and shiny with lube, bobs around with every step and Louis’ fingertips ache with the urge to touch.

Harry positions himself between Louis’ spread legs, one knee on the couch and the other steady on the floor. He cups the underside of Louis’ thigh, lifting him slightly off the couch, and grips his hard length in his other hand to slap his cock against his hole. The obscene wet noise echoes in the room and Louis whines, throwing his head back against the pillow. He spreads his legs out further in invitation and Harry groans at his flexibility. His cock blurts out a dribble of precome and Harry aims it at Louis’ messy hole, rubbing his cockhead there and smearing his shiny, pink rim before slamming into him.

“ _Oh,_ oh!” Louis sobs, thrashing underneath him as Harry begins to work up a frantic rhythm. He lies there, wanton and pliant, letting Harry use him. “Mm, right _there_.”

“That’s it, there we go,” Harry coos, snapping his hips. “I’ve got you so loose and sloppy this weekend that your hole takes me like it’s nothing.”

“ _Ah_ , H-Harry,” Louis cries, tears brimming his eyes as he pounds into him.

Louis’ just lucid enough to pry his eyes open and take in the sight of Harry pounding into him relentlessly. His skin glistens with sweat, slowly beading down his defined chest and to his taut stomach muscles. Ringlets of curls fall in front of his face, cheeks flushed and bottom lip caught between his teeth. Louis whimpers, feeling so unbearably overwhelmed, and tightens down on Harry’s cock. He preens when Harry swears under his breath, hips stuttering and pressing his leg against his chest.

“My _pretty_ boy,” Harry groans, digging his hand into Louis’ thigh. He lifts his hips higher off the couch, pounding him in the air with loud slaps of their skins and moans. Louis’ hands fly around, clutching the couch as his body’s jerked up the couch every time Harry bucks into him, fucking him mercilessly. “ _Fuck_.”

“Y-yes, just like that,” Louis mewls, high-pitched moans pulled out his mouth as Harry quickens his pace. “Mm, love your cock.”

“Know you do, baby,” Harry grits through clenched teeth, folding him in half to hover over him. “You just love cock so much.”

“Your cock,” Louis corrects on an exhale, eyes fluttering shut. “Uh, uh, _uh!_ ”

Strong arms wrap around Louis’ back and Harry sits back on the couch, pulling him into his lap. Harry grips his hips with tight fingers, nails clawing into his damp skin, as he rams into him desperately. Louis’ ass catches each thrust, slapping against Harry’s hips and practically being bounced on Harry’s cock with the force of his thrusts. Louis steadies himself with his hands on Harry’s shoulder, head thrown back in pleasure. Cupping Louis’ face with one hand, Harry litters his face with kisses and reaches his other hand between them, engulfing his large, veiny hand around Louis’ cock entirely.

“You gonna come for me, baby?” Harry murmurs, stroking him off quickly in time with the snap of his hips. “Get us all messy?”

Tightening his fist around Louis’ cock, Harry runs his thumb over his slit to slide through the precome dribbling out. The familiar stirrings of his release bubble inside of Louis’ stomach and his moan gets caught in his throat as his body seizes, spurting between their bodies. Harry’s hips start to lose its rhythm and brings his come-splattered hand to Louis’ mouth, feeding his fingers inside. Louis swirls his tongue between them, drool spilling out his lips and the sight alone, combined with Louis clenching down around his cock, has Harry shooting off inside him.

Louis barely has time to revel in the feeling of being full of come when Harry lifts his hips, cock slipping out and slapping wetly against his stomach. He whines at the loss before Harry arranges him on his hand and knees, crouching behind him and kneading his ass appreciatively. Large hands spread his cheeks open and Louis buries his flushed face into the cushion of the couch, come slowly running down the cleft of his ass.

The first flick of Harry’s tongue has Louis falling on his elbows, muffling his cry into the couch. “ _Oh_ —ah, ah, p-please,” Louis rambles, saliva dripping out his mouth. 

Harry licks over his sensitive hole, humming against his ass at his own taste. Nosing at his hole, Harry spreads him open more, eagerly lapping up the cum hanging onto Louis’ rim with wet smacks of his lips like he’s hungry for it.

“Fuck, tastes so good,” Harry grunts. He gives his hole a kitten lick before diving back in with a groan, burying his face between Louis’ asscheeks and licking over him with fat swipes. The tip of his tongue prods at his hole and then dips in, licking into him and coaxing out his come.

“Oh, God,” Louis moans. He feels like he’s floating off, entire body numb except for the feel of Harry’s wet tongue lapping away at his puffy hole like his favorite meal. The noises are loud, Harry’s lips smacking against him, sucking at his hole with hums and groans of satisfaction. Louis’ toes curl against the couch and he arches back, whimpering when Harry buries his face even further into his ass.

“Got you all messy just so I can clean you up again,” Harry pants, pulling away.

He gently turns Louis onto his back, pressing their chests together and softly stroking at Louis’ cheekbone. Harry looks absolutely obscene, his hair a wild mess that frames his face glistening with spit. Collapsing against him, Harry presses in close and seeks his mouth eagerly. Louis moans into the kiss, hands reaching up to entangle themselves in Harry’s hair as he tastes Harry’s come on his mouth. Harry extends his tongue as Louis’ mouth falls open for him, inviting his tongue to slide against his.

“Told you the couch was a good idea,” Harry grins, earning himself a smack to the shoulder.

The third admission to the trip is that the couch _was_ a good idea.

*****

“Are you _sure_ you don’t want to just drop out and live here already? Be my housewife?”

“I guess I can talk to my sugar daddy, figure some things out and—”

Louis’ words get cut off as Harry digs his fingers into his thigh, pulling a burst of laughter out of him.

The drive to the airport always goes something like this—Harry's hand firm and strong on Louis' thigh, never leaving, Louis gazing out the window and watching the green scenery whip by him, a song filling the silence over the speakers. The lines _wouldn’t it be nice if we were older, then we wouldn’t have to wait so long_ swirl in the air and it’s just—leave it to Harry to always pick songs that are borderline sickeningly accurate. Mindless conversation filters through every now and then, nothing more than passing comments or _hey, don’t forget to give my sister that vinyl_ and _I left you a note in your office but you’ll have to find it_ and _wait for me to watch Bridgerton_.

It’s filler, mostly. More than anything, it’s prolonging the inevitable.

Curling his hand around Harry's wrist, Louis brings his hand up to his lips and presses a kiss to each knuckle. He lets the quiet wash back over them because he doesn't know what else to say except an endless litany of _I love you’s_ and _I miss you’s_.

The airport's bustling with travelers and Harry's practically glued to his side while Louis checks in. They find two seats together at Starbucks and Harry throws an arm around his shoulder, their thighs pressed tightly together, warm lips against his temple. His touch is so close and never-ending that Louis can barely stomach the thought of it being gone once he boards the plane.

“Ugh,” Harry groans after taking a sip of his coffee, scrunching his nose in distaste. “There’s your shitty coffee and then there’s _shitty_ coffee. This makes me miss yours.”

“Asshole,” Louis laughs, pinching his forearm and soothing it by massaging it lightly. “I made you a pot before we left. It'll be cold when you get home, so it’ll taste extra shitty. You’re welcome.”

Harry barks out a laugh and hauls him closer, kissing his temple, his cheek, and the corner of his mouth until he finally catches his lips. Louis sighs into the kiss, curling his hand into Harry’s hair for a moment before pulling away. “The option of you being my housewife is still on the table, by the way,” Harry smiles. “I'll take up a second job to support us and we'll adopt a dog—”

“A cat.”

“A _dog_ while your sugar daddy, and maybe even Zayn, sobs outside our home.”

The word _home_ has never sounded more distant than it does at an airport when he's just minutes from flying hundreds of miles away from it. If Louis allows himself to think about it too much, it's enough to clog up his throat with something horrible, make his eyes well up with tears and probably miss his flight if that meant buying another couple of hours with Harry.

“Zayn isn't in love with me,” Louis rolls his eyes. He grabs Harry's coffee and takes a sip just because he can, mainly as a distraction, and coughs at the bitterness. Harry chuckles beside him, running a soothing hand up and down his arm.

“Everyone's in love with you, babe,” Harry says easily. He inhales slowly as if he's preparing himself and Louis doesn't have to look at the time to know what comes next. “C’mon, we should probably start walking to security.”

Louis’ stomach curls at the word _we_ as if Harry's going to board the plane with him and the reality is so far from the truth that he entertains the thought of actually becoming a housewife just to push away the darker thoughts. Saying goodbye isn’t even the worst part, not when there’s a promise of more. The worst part is how it never really seems to get easier, how a year seems to somehow stretch out for a decade. It's just constantly leaving seems more like an inconvenience, a hurdle that they have to constantly jump over.

They slowly stop a safe distance away from the crowds of people at security and Harry immediately pulls him against his chest, wraps his arms around his shoulder while Louis squeezes his middle. They squeeze each other until it gets hard to breathe, as if that wasn't hard for Louis ever since he woke up this morning. He buries his face into the crook of Harry's neck, inhaling his scent to get his fill to survive the next long starvation.

“Just another month and I’ll come back to California for a while,” Harry comments, but it sounds more like a reassurance with the way his voice dips lower and his arms tighten around him.

“A while,” Louis repeats as if he’s rolling the word around in his mouth, testing it out. He wouldn’t necessarily call three weeks synonymous with a while, but he knows what Harry means. Three weeks is more than they’ve gotten for the past five months. Being apart from Harry seems like a constant exercise in selflessness. Louis just smiles because it's hard enough as it is and he makes a conscious effort to ease any guilty thoughts he knows Harry has. “Okay, just another month and then three weeks.”

Harry nudges his nose into Louis’ cheek fondly before pressing a kiss there. “Go,” he mutters softly. He kisses the corner of his mouth, his chin, and then catches his lips. “Love you so much, babe.”

“I love you,” Louis replies, hands balled up in fists against Harry’s chest as he chases kiss after kiss. Harry sighs in defeat, pulling him in close and dragging him on his tiptoes to deepen their kiss, hard enough to bruise. 

That’s what Louis wants, really. To leave each other lovestained.

They break apart with a soft click of their lips, panting and still wanting. Their mouths hint of kisses, swollen, red and glistening with spit. It’s a physical strain to walk away from Harry that Louis snaps back to him like a gravitational force. Harry holds him close, impossibly close, muttering senseless words into Louis’ cheek with promises and love before giving his waist an encouraging squeeze. Louis whines, digging his face into Harry’s neck and inhaling deeply to steady himself. He pulls away and turns on his heels quickly, forcing himself to stalk towards security with nothing more than the heat of Harry’s gaze on him as he walks away.

Once he boards the plane, Louis collapses in his seat with a huff. Pressing his forehead against the cool glass window, Louis lets the morning sun wash over him and fill him up. He’s returning home to the golden state, but he doesn’t think the sunshine has looked any prettier than it does on Portland with Harry.

**Author's Note:**

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